


Dancing With A Ghost

by pointless



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Simon is a ghost, baz and penny are best friends, can i write a ghost story? we'll find out, dead companions to lovers, he has a pet ghost cat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2019-11-26 09:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18178967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pointless/pseuds/pointless
Summary: Baz is just a normal 18 year old (apart from having a dead mother and being a gay mage, of course).That is, until he's turned into a vampire right before the start of eighth year.And apparently he can see ghosts now (or just one ghost).In summary, two dead boys try to help each other out.





	1. Intro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some depictions of violence in this chapter, just so you're aware.
> 
> If you don't want to read it,  
> basically it's just how Baz gets turned into a vampire.

I slam the heavy door behind me, stomping out into the biting wind. I need something- _anything_ to clear my head. I find myself heading in the direction of the pub. It’s pitch dark outside now. The only sound is my feet hitting the gravel road with my quick strides, my breath pacing with my every step, and the howling wind shaking the trees. I eventually find myself running---running from my house, my father, my own thoughts. Unfortunately, I can’t avoid those things forever. Alcohol will have to suffice for the time being.

Slowing down to catch my breath, I make sight of the club ahead of me. The flashing sign calls to me like an old friend. I could be considered a regular at this point. There are only a few lonely cars scattered across the parking lot.

_Good. I don’t want too many people seeing me like this._

I take my usual seat at the bar, asking for a drink. I’d probably fall asleep on this stool if it wouldn’t make me more pathetic than I already am. The cool glass reaches my lips and my eyes skim the floor. Looking for what, I don’t know, but my eyes meet with a man’s in the corner. He is watching me so intently that a chill runs up my spine. I try to avoid his gaze, but I find myself glancing back at him. He looks only a few years older. Grey, tired. If he were to get some sleep I’m sure he could be much more attractive. We maintain eye contact as he gets up from his seat and makes his way up to me.

“Hey,” he says gruffly, sliding his hand to the small of my back. I straighten like a rod, which pulls a smirk from his lips. I’ve never been this close to a man before. I’m desperate enough for _anyone_ to make me feel valid at this point.

So I agree when he asks if I want to step outside with him.

We stand behind the club, lighting our cigarettes. We’re only postponing the inevitable. Am I going to go home with him? Are we going to hook up? At this point, I don’t care. I’m empty and tired. He takes his cigarette from his lips, looking me up and down. I suddenly feel vulnerable. He’s _clearly_ older than I am. Surely he’s more experienced.

But then my father’s words today come to my head:

_You’re not queer, Basilton. I know you._

_You should find a nice girl and I’m sure you would change your mind._

_That’s unnatural._

_Pitches aren’t gay._

So I shove him out of my mind, and when the man leans forward to kiss me, I lean in to meet him.

Even with it being freezing outside, his lips are oddly cold. Something turns in my stomach, but I push into him harder. Shouldn’t I be enjoying this? I know I’m gay, but something feels _wrong._ A sudden sting strikes through my lip.

“ _Ow,”_ I pull away quickly, touching my lip with the tip of my finger. It comes away with blood. I look up to be met with a face full of teeth.

 _No,_ insanely sharp teeth. Enormous fangs.

_Vampire._

His menacing grin grows wider as the realization crosses my face.

“Took you awhile to figure out, kid. And I thought people of your kind were supposed to be brighter.”

_My kind. He knows I’m a mage._

I try to run away, but it’s no use. He pins me to the wall easily with only one hand, and all of my pride abandons me as I begin crying out for help.

“Who’s going to come and help a gay kid at the club?” He lets out a cynical laugh as I squirm beneath his grasp. “I could smell you across the room. You’re going to taste _amazing.”_

A sharp pain shoots through my neck and I let out a loud scream. My knees buckle, and I fall limp against the wall. I can already feel myself losing consciousness.   

I hear distant cries. They sound as if they’re being shouted down a long tunnel. The world around me exists only in shades of red and black. I feel the man’s grasp suddenly release me, and I’m falling, falling, falling. Running steps reach me but I can’t see anything. My eyes fall shut.


	2. Birth in Reverse

I wake up in a cold sweat, sitting up in bed. I’m panting, my head is throbbing, and I’m _freezing._ A sudden, deep pain fills my stomach, and I fall back with a groan. I’ve never been this hungry in my entire life.

A small, vibrating noise catches my attention. I look up to see a ball of fur- no, a cat- laying at the foot of my bed.

_What in Merlin’s name. I don’t have a cat._

The silver creature looks up at me and meows softly before getting up to come over to me. I reach out to stroke its fur. But my hand---my hand just falls straight through it.

“Holy fuck,” I gasp, moving away from it. Can animals be ghosts?

“Oliver!” Someone sings from outside of my bedroom. “Oliver!”

The cat’s ears perk up and it hops off the bed, running toward the door.

Then something impossible happens. A boy materializes in front my eyes, walking straight through my closed door. I watch in horror as he leans down and picks up the cat into his arms. He smiles brightly, stroking the cat.

“Who are you?” I demand.

The boy looks around himself in confusion before meeting my eyes. He looks as if he stepped out of a vintage photo. Entirely black and white. His edges appear to be faded and he shimmers in the light as he moves. He has a head full of messy curls and a t-shirt and tattered jeans on. He says nothing and only squints his eyes.

“Excuse me?” My voice comes out clipped in annoyance. “Can you hear me?”

His eyes widen and he steps closer. “Are you talking to me? Wait. Can you hear me?”

“Yes and yes,” I say with suspicion. His face turns into one giant grin. He puts down the cat quickly and hops onto my bed, the mattress not even dipping under him.

“Oh, Merlin, this is amazing!” he shouts, laughing like a madman. I try to shush him, but he just shrugs me off. “Don’t worry, no one else can hear me. My name’s Simon.”

I’m so utterly lost.

“Are you---” I swallow. “What are you?”

“Well, that’s a complicated question…” He looks away nervously. “But long story short, I’m a ghost.”

“A ghost? Is the veil open? It isn’t supposed to open for another few months.” Does this mean that I could find my mother now?

“Uhh, no. You can just see me now.”

Another shot of pain hits my stomach and I double over. “Am I dead too then?” I groan again. “What the fuck is going on?”

“No, you’re not dead. If you were you wouldn’t feel any pain.”

I would rather be dead at this point.

“Do you… remember last night at all?” Simon asks me.

Suddenly everything comes back to me: the fight with my father, going to the club, kissing that man, and oh- Crowley.

I shoot up out of bed and run to the mirror on the wall. I’m instantly hit with how different I look. My skin is no longer the bronze tone it once was and has settled into a greyer hue. My eyes are brighter, my hair somehow looks even darker than before. I look over at the ghost in my room in terror.

“I’m dead. I’m actually dead.” I run my hands through my hair in panic.

“You’re not _dead._ You’re just a vampire.” He smiles sheepishly.

“Oh, okay, _just_ a vampire. A blood-sucking monster. One that can _see ghosts._ I can see dead people! I’m pretty sure that constitutes as dead.”

Hot tears form behind my eyes. Crowley, school starts again in a week. How do I explain to everyone at Watford why my entire appearance has changed? What am I going to tell Dev and Niall, or Penelope? Can I even go back to Watford? Are vampires allowed at Watford? Surely not.

I’m so hungry. I need blood. I can’t believe I need blood.

My door suddenly opens and Fiona walks in.

“Can you at least knock?” I say in agitation.

She smirks. “Glad that being undead hasn’t changed you much. You’re lucky that I found you when I did.”

I feel the pain in my stomach again and fall onto the ground. She doesn’t rush to my aid. Typical. Simon sits on the ground next to me and observes the interaction in silence. I really wish he would leave.

“Lucky isn’t the word I would use.” I can smell her across the room. “Crowley, Fiona. If you don’t leave I might actually eat you.”

She only laughs and puts a cup on my nightstand.

“Here. We could get this for you. But you’re going to have to learn to hunt on your own eventually.” I instantly get up to reach for the blood. Gross. “And no, not human blood. Your father would kill you if you touched a human.”

“I’m surprised that he hasn’t killed me after last night’s events.”

When I bring the cup to my lips, I’m hit with a sweet and unfamiliar scent. Something in my jaw shifts uncomfortably. I lift my hand to touch my teeth and accidentally scrape the tip of my finger. I’m reminded of last night’s memories of the blood from my lip.

I shudder and open my eyes to see that ghost boy has shifted to be sitting next to me on the bed. He’s staring in awe at the large fangs in my mouth.

 _“Wicked,_ ” he gawks.

I scowl at him, which Fiona gives me an odd look for. I turn away and lift the cup once again, hesitantly taking a drink. It’s surprisingly difficult to achieve with fangs in my mouth. I expect myself to spit it out instantly, but crowley, it actually tastes _good._ I empty the cup within seconds.

“Your father is an idiot. And a bigot. I don’t see why your mother married him.”

“I don’t see how this is supposed to help.” Why does my voice sound so strange?

“But he loves you, Baz. He doesn’t understand. And recent… developments don’t help, but he doesn’t want you to die. Just give him time, boyo.”

With that she leaves the room and I’m left alone with Simon the Friendly Ghost once again. Thankfully the pain in my stomach has subsided and I feel the fangs retracting to Merlin-knows-where.  

“Well, that went well,” Simon says optimistically.

“Did it, though?” I say in annoyance. “We’re forgetting the part where I’m talking to a dead person.”

“Well that’s rude.” He crosses his arms defensively.

“How! You’re actually dead. I’m dead. I think I’m allowed to say that.”

“ _You’re_ not actually dead. You can talk to people. People can actually see you…” Simon fades off, seeming to be distracted by his own thoughts.

“Who are you, Simon?” I sigh. “Why are you in my house?”

He gives me a small, sad smile. “Can we go outside? I’ll tell you everything.”

***

The world is a brighter shade of green today after the rain last night. Simon and I walk toward the wood. Well, I walk. He sort of floats. Not in the graceful way you’d imagine a ghost to travel. He somehow finds a way to make it seem clumsy. Underneath the light, he appears as more transparent, shimmering as he moves. More ghostly. The phantom cat decides to come along as well, striding beside Simon.

“I didn’t know animals could become ghosts,” I contemplate aloud.

“Oh, Oliver?” Simon keeps his eyes on the path. “I’m not really sure what she is. I think of her more as a spirit. I just found her one day, wandering around. We stuck together after that.”

“So if I can see you, does this mean I could see my mother?” We both stop in our tracks. Simon gives me a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry, but probably not. I don’t know how your vampire ghost-vision works, but I don’t think it’s that strong. Your mother lives behind the veil. I’m stuck in the middle. What do Catholics call it? Pentagory?”

“Purgatory.” I avoid rolling my eyes.

“Yeah, it’s sort-of like that.” He leans down to pick up the cat. I’m beyond confused.

“Why aren’t you behind the veil?”

“I still don’t know all of the logistics of the afterlife. But I think this only happens to younger mages, to people who died before their time.”

I feel anger rise up my throat. “My mother died before her time.”

Simon reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder but stops short and lets it fall back to his side. Something flashes across his face and he pulls away, looking to the ground.

“I know,” he says softly. “I was there.”

I clench my fists tightly and move closer. “ _What_ are you talking about?”

“My full name is Simon Snow.” He avoids my gaze.

My eyes widen as the realization hits me. How did I not see this? He was a mage, he died young, his name is Simon… It all points to Simon Snow.

When my mother was headmaster, a mage tried to start an uprising against the Coven. His name was Davy. He was against all of the old families and the traditions of Watford, and part of his plan began with taking over as the headmaster of Watford. One day, he got past Watford’s wards and found his way into my mother’s office. He didn’t go unnoticed, however; Simon Snow noticed him and followed him.

Davy attacked my mother from behind. There was no chance for her to defend herself. Simon Snow acted a second too late, casting a lethal spell just as Davy had noticed him and casted a counterspell at the same second.

There were three fatalities that day. I was ten years old when it happened, not yet at Watford. Every student knows Simon Snow’s name and remembers him as the hero of Watford. And now I’m talking to the boy who not only witnessed my mother’s death, but gave up his life to try to prevent it.

“Oh...” I try to recollect myself. I’m not usually a person at loss for words.

“Yeah.”

We stand in silence. I observe him for a moment, with his messy head of curls and grey moles spotted across his arms. I wonder what he would look like in color. My skin itches underneath the sunlight, but I do my best to ignore it. I suppose this is something I’ll have to get used to.

I clear my throat. “I suppose I should thank you.”

His head turns abruptly toward me, his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. “For what? She died. I didn’t save anyone.” The vigor in his voice fades off as his gaze shifts back to the ground.

“But you avenged her. You killed Davy.”

“I’m sure someone else would’ve done it eventually.”

I’m not so sure about that. I don’t say anything, though.

“So you died. And now you’re stuck in limbo, waiting for what?”

He shrugs. It’s a strange gesture when referring to your own fate.

“I’ve been stuck like this for six years. I’ve gotten tired of looking for answers. I try not to think about it.”

He still doesn’t look me in the eye. This is Simon Snow, the legendary hero of Watford, and he’s out of hope. I can’t blame him.

I have a million other things to worry about. I haven’t even spoken to my father since our argument last night (or since I was turned into a dark creature). I have to figure out how to live like this. There’s only one week left before the beginning of my eighth year, that is, if I’m allowed to go back. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with all of it.

But I’m looking at him, a boy who died too young, who gave his life for the better of the world of mages. He’s a hero. He killed the man who murdered my mother, and I am in debt to him. I don’t know how I’m going to live with being dead, or gay, or anything else, but I do know I have to help him because I owe it to him.

“I’m going to help you.”

His wide, bright eyes look up at me in shock. I watch his lips fall open. “What?”

“I owe it to you. You avenged my mother’s death. I’ll help you get to where you’re supposed to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait longer to publish this but I'm impatient so here it is!  
> Thank you to half_witch for beta-ing!!!  
> (I'll try my best to update weekly)


	3. Flesh without Blood

**Baz**

I close the door quietly behind me and attempt to slip into my room unnoticed, but I don’t have such luck. I nearly run into Vera at the top of the stairs.

“Oh! Basilton!” She stops and looks at me with wide eyes. It seems my change in appearance is just as noticeable as I suspected. She curtseys before going on quickly, “I’m glad to see you’re up and feeling better. Your father requests your presence at dinner tonight if you feel able.”

I’m not sure what I expected after last night. Perhaps to be completely ignored until I left for school. I can’t imagine what sort of conversation we’ll be having at the table tonight,

“ _So, Basilton_ ,” my father would say flatly, “ _Now that you’re both gay and a monster, we may have to rethink your inheritance.”_

I close my door behind me and sigh with my head in my hands. I know I’m being unrealistic. We never converse much during dinner anyway. But the idea of just ignoring everything that’s happened somehow hurts more.

“You okay?”

Merlin, I forgot he was here.

“I’m fine,” I say, slicking my hair back and walking over to the mirror. I really do look dead. Simon Snow comes over to join me in the mirror. Looking at us side-by-side, it seems we match. Both dead, just in two different shades of grey.

“I think you look fine,” he shrugs. “I could get used to it.”

“ _You_ could get used to it?” I laugh sharply and fall back on my bed. “How am I supposed to explain to every person I know why I suddenly look like a corpse?”

“Make-up? Magic?” He’s looking down at me with that stupid cat in his arms.

“I don’t know if there are spells that strong. Wearing make-up sounds like the last thing I want to do.”

“You could just tell the truth.”

I lift my head and look at him incredulously. “Are you daft? No, absolutely not. No one’s letting a blood-sucking vampire just walk around Watford.”

He shrugs again. “You’re not going to be a _human_ blood-sucking vampire. You could talk to Penelope. She could convince Headmaster Bunce to understand.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “You know Penny?”

Simon’s face turns a darker shade of grey and he looks away from me. Crowley, can ghosts blush?

“Well, yeah. Yeah, I mean-”

He’s cut off by a knock at the door. Time for dinner.

“You’re going to explain when I come back,” I say as I leave the room.

***

I should just run away and never come home. Or, I should just set myself on fire. That’ll be even easier as a vampire, won’t it?

My father won’t even look at me. He did, for only a split second, as I took my seat at the table. There was the moment when he first saw me- his eyes widened, but he quickly composed himself.

“Glad you could join us, Basil,” he sounds strained.

I politely nod in return. I don’t trust my voice at the moment, so I allow silence to fill the air as we wait for the food to be brought out. I don’t dare look around the table either. I can feel Daphne and Mordelia’s eyes on me. _Where is Fiona?_ She probably left to avoid this humiliatingly uncomfortable reunion. I wish she would’ve taken me with her.

It was only yesterday that everything was normal and we were dining at this same table. My father was going on and on, about how I need to begin working on university applications, about how I need to find a nice, pretty girl this year, because everyone knows that you’re out of luck for finding love after Watford. I was on my last nerve.

“I don’t want to find a nice girl, father,” I said through gritted teeth before I could stop myself.

All of their heads snapped toward me.

“And what could you mean by that, Basil?”

 _Go, now,_ I told myself. _Just leave. Or make something up._

But it had to be said eventually, didn’t it?

“I mean that I’m gay.”

Silence filled the room. I watched him as he sat for a moment, before his mouth curled into a tight smile.

“Now, that’s just absurd. Pitches aren’t gay.”

Then everything went downhill from there.

The food is brought to the table and I’m beyond grateful for the break in silence and because I’m starving. When I lift my fork to my mouth, I feel a similar sensation in my teeth: things getting closer together, my jaw working. _My fangs are back_. I thought it was only supposed to happen when I was drinking actual blood. I don’t need enormous fangs to eat mashed potatoes.

My hand flies up to cover my mouth. I’m definitely going to light myself on fire.

“Baz,” Daphne clears her throat. “Will you be returning to Watford for your eighth year?”

It’s a stupid question (or maybe not, in light of recent events), but I know she’s only trying to fill in the silence. Of course I’m finishing school, it’s what my mother would want. I nod in response with my hand over my mouth.

Silverware clinks loudly against plates as I keep my head down. These ridiculous fangs aren’t going away yet, and my family is going to notice soon that I’m acting strange. I can’t just sit here and watch them all eat. I wish that I was on fire right now.

I abruptly push back my chair and stand.

“I don’t feel well.” My words come out slightly lisped. “Please excuse me.”

I can feel all of their heads watching me as I exit the dining room. As soon as I’m out of sight, I run up the stairs. I can’t even go into my room right now because of my new _guest._ Instead, I find myself on the floor of the library. And now I’m crying like an idiot.

If only I hadn’t been a complete _numpty_ yesterday and came out to my father. I shouldn’t have run off to a bar in the middle of the night. I should have realized that something was off about that man and just stayed away. But my self-destructive habits always get the best of me. Now my whole life, if I’m even alive, is ruined. I can’t eat around anyone. My skin looks bloodless and sickly. I have to consume life in order to survive.

My mother would be disappointed. Just thinking about her makes me cry even harder.

A knock sounds at the door. I don’t have the energy in me to say to leave me alone.

“Bazzy?” Mordelia’s voice says hesitantly as she opens the door.

She comes in carrying my plate of food and lays it in front of me. I’m still looking away. She shouldn’t see her older brother crying.

“Mum told me what happened,” she says.

I stay silent. She sits down next to me and wraps her arms around me.

“You shouldn’t get too close to vampires, Mordelia.”

She squeezes me tighter. She’s incredibly intelligent for a seven year old. I hug her back, and we sit there for just a moment. Then she pulls away, gives me a smile, and leaves.

I decide to quit wallowing in self-pity and eat my supper. This library is freezing and I’d prefer to sit in front of the fire in my room. Is constantly feeling cold a symptom of vampirism? Apparently there’s a lot more to this disease than living off of blood, so I wouldn’t be surprised.

When I return to my room, I find Simon Snow talking to that cat again. It appears rather juvenile, but I suppose it’s unfair to judge him, considering the thing has been his only companion for six years. He stops and looks up at me.

“How’d it go?”

“Not important,” I avoid his question and his gaze. “What is important, is where we left off. How do you know Penelope? And you still haven’t explained what you’re doing _here,_ in my home.”

I take a seat on my bed, looking at him expectantly as I smooth my trousers out.

**Simon**

I was really hoping he’d forget about that. But I’ve never been a lucky person, and that clearly isn’t changing today.

Now he’s watching me with his intense eyes and arched brows, his hands folded over his crossed legs. Him becoming a vampire only heightened the intensity of these features. I’d be sweating from nervousness if it were possible.

How do you tell someone you’ve been haunting them for nearly two years?

Alright, “haunting” is a bit dramatic. It sounds much worse than it is. I am a ghost though, so I’d say that’s the technical term.

“Okay,” I swallow. “Well… when I first died, I couldn’t stand being at Watford. There were too many painful memories being there. So I left. I went looking for answers anywhere else I could around the country, about why I couldn’t get through the veil or who my parents were or-”

“You didn’t know your parents?” Baz interjects.

“No, I was an orphan. I know it’s unheard of for mages to give up their children, but here I am.”

Baz looks lost in thought. “Nobody ever told us that at Watford.”

I sigh. “Well why would they? I’m supposed to be this great hero of Watford. They don’t want to remember me for what I really was: an orphan that didn’t fit in with the rest of the magickal world.”

I never fit in with the other students. It didn’t matter how much speech therapy or private lessons I went to, it’s just too late to catch up when you don’t discover your magic until you’re 11 years old. My only close friend was a girl named Agatha, and that was because she was the only student who didn’t care enough about magic to be bothered that I was rubbish at it.

Headmaster Pitch was kind to me. I’m not really sure how I was even allowed at Watford. I think she tolerated me because there wasn’t anywhere else for me to go.

  
“Anyway,” I continue, “I traveled for a few years. I wasn’t really sure how long. But I eventually realized I wasn’t going to find any answers, so I ended up going back to Watford. Maybe because ghosts are supposed to haunt the places they died.”

I look at Baz, hoping for him to say something, but he’s just watching me, waiting for me to continue.

“So… I came back. To my room. And you were there.”

He raises his eyebrows in question. “And how long ago was that?”

I feel my face heat up. I haven’t blushed in years, but I’m continuously embarrassing myself today.

“Like, two years ago?” His eyebrows go even higher. I stammer out a response, “Well, yeah. Maybe less. I don’t know. I just- I had nowhere else to go. And it was my room when I went to Watford, so I thought maybe I was just supposed to stay there, and I’d eventually magically pass over to the afterlife.”

Obviously, that never worked out. Instead I ended up following a human around hopelessly for two years.

**Baz**

I have to admit it’s quite entertaining to watch Simon get so flustered. (And adorable. But I won’t think about that right now).

It makes sense, I suppose. That he would come back to his own room. I don’t have a roommate, so I always left that side of the room untouched. I didn’t know it was _Simon Snow’s_ side of the room, though. Otherwise, I might’ve been more opposed to having my own room, knowing there was a possibility of it being haunted. (I’m not usually a superstitious person, but I _am_ a mage and I’m smart enough to stay away from a place someone died).

Not that I had a choice. The crucible didn’t match me with anyone. Little did I know, I had a ghost roommate for the past two years.

Maybe that should bother me more, but I died today, so I’ve hit my limit of being surprised.

“And that led you to my house because?”

Simon smiles nervously, avoiding my eyes. “It gets really boring at Watford around the holidays… I had nothing else to do, so I just… came along?”

“So do you follow me around all day or do you just wallow around the room?” I tease.

Simon’s cheeks darken and his eyebrows furrow. “ _No_ , I didn’t just ‘ _follow you around_ ’. I found things to do with my time… I’d hang out with Oliver, or go visit Eb and see the goats, or watch football games.”

“The football games that I play in.”

“What? _No,”_ he pulls at his hair. “I just like football. I played on the team when I was… alive.”

He makes a strange face at that.

“I was just around enough to know other students. And who your friends are, which is why I know Penny.”

I’m the only person who calls her Penny, but I don’t say anything because I remember something else.

“Eb? The goatherd?”

Simon’s face brightens instantly. “Yeah! We were great friends. It’s nice to visit her, she’s the only person left at Watford that I really knew… Well, there are my teachers but… I was never a star student.”

Simon then yawns, laying back across my sofa. I blink.

“Are you tired?”

“Well yeah, it’s been quite an eventful day hasn’t it?” The cat jumps onto the couch as well, climbing onto Simon’s stomach. “I haven’t talked to a human being in six years. It’s exhausting.”

Not a human being, but I don’t correct him this time. “Do ghosts sleep?”

“Do vampires?” He cracks one eye open at me, his arms behind his head.

My eyelids feel extremely heavy, so I’ll assume the answer is yes.

“Fair point.”

With that I go to get ready for bed. I almost offer for Simon to use my bathroom, but I guess he doesn’t need it. Has he been wearing the same outfit for six years? Surely he doesn’t eat... But apparently he needs sleep. I won’t try to unriddle the bodily functions of a ghost before I figure out my own.

I don’t look in the mirror while I brush my teeth. I don’t need to have another breakdown today.

When I come back to the room, I find him in the exact same position, curled up with the cat on his stomach. I climb into my bed and watch him for a moment. His light curls are splayed across the sofa, his eyes are closed, and he looks peaceful, his chest steadily moving. I can’t imagine what he’s gone through, not having anyone to speak to for over half a decade.

I think that helping him is the right thing to do. Nobody deserves to go through that alone. And if I don’t help him, what will he do instead? Continue haunting his old room at Watford for eternity?

He’s already asleep, but I still feel the need to say something.

“I’m going to help you figure everything out, Simon Snow. We’ll fix it.”

I lay back on my bed and close my eyes, hoping that sleep will come soon. If only I could find a way to fix myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late update, but I'm done with school now, so I should be able to update more frequently!  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated! My tumblr is bazviolin if you'd like to follow :)


	4. Giving Up The Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz and Simon start researching. Penny decides to visit.

**Baz**

“Wake up, Casper. We’re going to the library.”

I’m standing over the sofa, waiting for Simon to get up, but he only mumbles incoherently and rolls over to face away from me. I can’t exactly shake him awake, so I just drop my book on top of him -or rather, through him- , which somehow causes his eyes to open immediately.

“Ay, what was that for?”

“I was trying to wake you. Did you actually feel it?”

He frowns, looking at the book which appears to be quite literally inside of him.

“Sort of. It’s like water,” he yawns and closes his eyes again.

“Like water?”

“You can move through water, but you still feel it.”

“Well that’s exceptionally perceptive of you, perhaps you can use that skill while researching spells.”

I turn on my heel and head down the hall, expecting Simon to follow (he does).

Apparently ghosts’ inability to touch physical objects keeps them from being able to flip pages, which results in me doing all of the researching and Simon just laying on the floor of the library.

“Can we do something else?” He groans.

I look up from my book.

“I think you’re forgetting that I’m doing this for _you.”_

“I’ve been dead for six years, I can wait a bit longer.” He keeps his eyes on the ceiling.

“Well I’m sorry this isn’t entertaining enough for you, but the sooner I free you from your curse or whatever it is, the sooner I’ll be free of you following me around.”

Simon looks at me, and he looks slightly offended. I look back down at my book. I’m not sure why I said it; it came out a bit harsher than I intended. Perhaps I’m not used to this whole ghost-companion thing after all. He isn’t bad company, however. It’s strangely comforting to have someone around amidst my… transition.

“Whatever,” he huffs. “I’ll just find some cooler vampires to hang out with.”

The corner of my mouth quirks up. This Simon Snow is growing on me.

“Good luck finding another one that can perform magic,” I look back down on my book. “Spells relating to death and the afterlife are… taboo, to say the least. It isn’t going to be easy to find something practical, especially considering your unique situation.”

Just then, a knock comes at the door. Vera walks into the library.

“Excuse me, Basil. You have a visitor downstairs.”

I look over at Simon, who shrugs. I turn back to Vera.

“Do you know who it is?”

“It’s Miss Bunce. I tried to tell her you weren’t feeling well, but she refuses to leave the foyer.”

I sigh, putting my head in my hands.

“Alright. Tell her I will come down in a moment.”

Vera leaves the room and I let my head fall backwards.

I don’t know what I’m going to tell Penelope. I thought I had another week to decide how to deal with this, but leave it to Penny to just show up at my house uninvited (it isn’t the first time). She’s going to notice that I’ve changed and I won’t know what to say because-

“Hey,” Simon’s voice enters my stream of consciousness. “Baz. Look at me.”

I do.

“Relax. It’s just Penny, okay? Just calm down.”

I nod, slowly sitting up and getting ready to stand.

“It’s gonna be okay. Let’s just get it over with and go downstairs.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Do you not want me to?”

I consider it for a moment. I almost say no—to avoid seeming weak, and because it’s strange to want a stranger to accompany me to talk to my best friend. But I know that I don’t want to do it alone, and I’m weak, so I decide to be honest.

“No, I want you to. Come with me.”

Penny notices me the moment I reach the staircase. She’s standing there, tapping her clunky Doc Martens on the tile floor with her hands on her hips. 

"You know I had to walk half a mile to get here? The cab said your house was haunted. Ridiculous." 

Simon and I look at each other. He shrugs with a small smile. 

"It's the wraiths," I say. 

“Why aren’t you answering my texts? My calls?” She calls as I’m making my way down. Simon follows close behind me.

“Are you my mother now, Penelope?” I try to keep my voice steady. She probably hasn’t noticed yet; I’m not very close to her.

She sighs with exasperation. “I’m being serious, I was worried. You always answer. And I wanted to talk to you about our magic words summer assignment.”

“Well, I’m alive.” Mostly. “So you can go home now and I’ll text you back.”

I reach the bottom of the stairs and she squints her eyes, walking closer to me. _Please, please stop._

“Baz....” she says. “You look… white.”

“Excellent observation.” I narrow my eyes, daring her to continue. But this is Penny, so of course she does.

“Are you sick? Is that why you haven’t been answering me? You should’ve just told me.”

“ _Baz_ ,” Simon says behind me. “Just tell her the truth.”

“I can’t,” I hiss under my breath.

“What?” Penelope asks.

“You can’t pretend to be sick forever, Baz.”

I sigh. He isn’t wrong.

“Just… follow me.”

***

“So are you going to explain what’s going on with you now?” Penny folds her arms and sits back in the couch in my room. Simon sits next to her. So weird.

“I…” I swallow and look at Simon. He gives me a reassuring nod. I have to close my eyes. “Something… happened.”

I open my eyes again. She watches at me expectedly.

“I got into a fight with my father, so I went to the club to get away.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t go there anymore.”

I ignore her disapproving comment.

“There was a man who took me outside and I wouldn’t have survived if my aunt hadn’t shown up.”

“Baz, you’re not making any sense. What happened?” I can’t bring myself to say the word.

“He bit me and it was too late. I was turned.”

Her eyes widen in realization as she looks me up and down.

“Oh, Merlin.” Penny stands up and moves closer to me, trying to scrutinize every change in my appearance, no doubt. I look at the ground.

“Can I see your teeth?”

My head snaps up to scowl at her. “No.”

Penny sighs and sits on the foot of my bed. Silence sits between us. Simon is anxiously watching us and biting his nails, and I could really do without him panicking as well. It was his bloody idea to tell her.

“I’ve never heard of a mage becoming a vampire..." Penny says more to herself than me. She turns to me then. “What are you going to tell everyone at school?”

“Not that I’m a vampire for sure.”

Penny snorts. “Well you aren’t going to be killing people are you?”

“Of course not. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to advertise it.”

Penny’s face suddenly brightens. “Tell everyone you’re anemic!”

“ _Extremely_ anemic. My skin is probably three shades whiter now.”

“I doubt anyone will question it. Just say you have a deadly blood disease and people will leave you alone.”

She says it like it’s such a simple solution. She and Snow have more in common than I would think, both of them suggesting such absurd ideas. But it’s true, I only have to go one more year at Watford. I’m good at lying (it’s not something I’m necessarily proud of, but it is useful). I think I could possibly get away with it. Except…

“Are you going to tell your mother?” I ask Penny.

She hesitates for a moment. “I think it’s better if we don’t. At least for a while. She loves you, but… I think we should wait.”

I nod in response. “Great. Well now that we’ve gotten over that, you can head home.”

“ _Baz,”_ she puts her hand on my arm. “Don’t shut me out.”

“I told you the truth, didn’t I?”

Simon huffs from across the room. “You haven’t told her about _me_ yet.”

Simon Snow is an idiot if he believes I’m going to confess to being a vampire _and_ seeing the dead in the same day. It’s too much. Penny will never cease to bombard me with questions if I tell her now.

I’ll tell her eventually. Once it’s all over.

“That’s not what I meant. Are you sure you’re okay with being alone right now?”

I glance over at Snow.

“I’ll manage.” I stand up and usher Penny toward the door with my hands on her shoulders. “And don’t worry, I’ll text you about our project. I’ll see you at school.”

She stops to turn around when we reach the front door of my house. She’s got that intense look in her eye that she gets when she’s either worried about me or about to tell me off. (Often it’s both).

“Take care of yourself. And call me.” She wraps her arms around my neck. I hesitate to put both of mine around her. Neither of us are very touchy-feely, so it’s rare that we express any care for each other physically.

Right now, though, it feels like a weight is being lifted off my shoulders.

After a moment has passed, she pulls away, gives me a small smile, and opens the door, leaving me with a ghost and an empty heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I broke my laptop, so updates will be slower. Feedback definitely motivates me though :)


	5. I Died So I Could Haunt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With that, the two of us climb out and get his luggage from the trunk.   
> “I’d offer to help, but my hands are full,” I joke.   
> Baz looks down at Oliver in my arms and just rolls his eyes, putting his bag over his shoulder.   
> “You’re lucky she isn’t a real cat or I might eat her.”

**Baz**

“Front seat’s for people who haven’t been turned into vampires,” Fiona remarks cruelly as she slams the car door. 

I scowl at her insensitive joke as I throw my luggage in the trunk. Snow seems to notice my discontent. 

“I’ll sit with you in the back,” he says with a ridiculous grin that is completely unnecessary. I feel my cheeks heat up. 

“Do as you please, but for the love of Merlin, don’t sing in the car. Fiona’s screeching is already more than I can bear.” 

“You haven’t even  _ heard _ my singing,” he mumbles. He’s right, and I’m sure his singing is insufferably endearing. 

Fiona rolls down the car window and lowers her sunglasses. “Are you getting in or can I go back inside and watch Netflix?” 

Curse Fiona and her Normal shows. She forced me to watch Black Mirror with her, and it was the most tolerable of all the others. The Sabrina reboot was just downright offensive to the Magical world; there’s enough stigma around magic, we don’t need more talk of us corresponding with the devil. 

(Snow likes it, though. Sometimes he just goes into Fiona’s room and watches the dreadful show with her. I suppose it doesn’t bother me. It’s nice to get  _ some _ time to myself.) 

The two of us (and the cat, despite my objections) climb into the backseat. The drive to Watford isn’t very long, but it feels unbearable today. The more time passes, the more anxious I can feel myself growing. I know that Penny and I figured it out, the whole lying about a rare blood disorder and all, but I’m still wary of the possibility of being found out. Then having my wand taken and fangs pulled and my name stricken from the book- 

“Hey,” Snow says. As if I could have a full-on conversation with him right now. I slightly tilt my head at him and raise my brows in question. 

“Can you like, get a piece of paper out?” 

I sigh dramatically and open my bag to get out my notebook. Snow grins. Fiona turns up her already-blasting music. 

_ What?  _ I write. 

“Can we play a game or something? Car rides are so boring.” 

Merlin, this boy will be the death of me. 

_ How did you survive 6 years alone being so infuriatingly annoying? _

Snow just smiles. “Tic tac toe?” 

**Simon**

I can tell Baz is nervous about going back to Watford, so I thought playing a game might distract him. I wasn’t lying, though. Car rides  _ are _ insanely dull. 

You get pretty good at reading someone when you spend all of your time with them for two years. Even more so when they don’t know you’re there, as creepy as that sounds… And Baz is another story. He’s always hiding his emotions from others and bottling up what he really has to say. Sometimes he opens up to Penny, or even Dev and Niall, but he never fully lets his guard down. But I get to see him for who he really is. Or I used to, before he was Turned. 

I don’t think of the past few years as  _ stalking.  _ That’s a bit of an exaggeration. I suppose I just thought of him as my roommate (one I couldn’t communicate with, but a roommate nonetheless). So whenever he came back to the room after class, or football, or violin lessons, or whatever, I was always there to see him at the end of the day for who he really is: just a boy. A broken and lonely, yet  _ witty _ and  _ brilliant _ and  _ charming,  _ boy, no matter how cool and emotionless he tried to present himself to the rest of the world.   

“Fuck!” I let out when Baz gets a three-in-a-row. Baz cackles. It’s not like I was putting in much effort. I knew he’d beat me no matter how hard I tried. “You only won because you have to write down all the marks.” 

Baz is still laughing scornfully at me. 

“What in Crowley’s name are you laughing at?” Fiona shouts over the music. 

Baz stops and goes wide-eyed as I’ve ever seen him. “I’m, uh, texting Dev and Niall.”

She eyes him suspiciously through the rear-view mirror. “Alright, boyo.” 

When she looks back at the road, Baz pulls his mobile from his pocket. Probably to text Penny. I’d look over his shoulder to check if he couldn’t see me. Perhaps _ that’s _ too invasive…

We’ve been researching more about my condition the past few weeks, with no success. Baz will occasionally come up with an idea and try out a spell on me, but nothing ever happens. The magic just fizzles out into the air, similar to how my magic reacted when I still had it. 

I’ve tried convincing him that we should tell Penny and she’d definitely help, but he won’t. I don’t know why. She’s already accepted his vampirism. I’m sure she’d be open to his new sixth sense. 

Maybe I’m being insensitive. Like I said, I’ve waited six years. I can wait longer. And I’m not completely alone now. Having someone to talk to, other than my pet cat, means everything. I think I would’ve gone crazy if I hadn’t found Baz. Whether he knew I existed or not, I’ve thought of him as a friend for these two years, and that gave me some sense of meaning. We might even actually be friends now. I’m sure he enjoys my company at least half of the time (even if he won’t admit it, the stubborn git). 

Baz thinks that we might have more luck when we go back to Watford, being closer to the place of my death. And there will be more books in the school library to look at. He’s dead set on figuring it all out. I don’t have the strength to tell him that I believe it sounds too good to be true. After being stuck like this for so long… I can’t imagine ever escaping it. 

But what we have right now… It’s good. It’s _so good._ Actually getting to talk to Baz everyday and joke with him and spend time with him, is more than I ever allowed myself to even dream of getting. It can’t go on forever, though. If we don’t figure out how to break my curse, or whatever it is, I can’t just ask him to let me follow him around for the rest of his life. Now that I think about it, it’d be even weirder with him growing older and me staying sixteen forever. I wonder how vampires age? There’s no way they’re actually immortal. I wonder if Baz knows. I almost ask, but it doesn’t seem like a conversation that would help his nerves right now. 

Baz puts his phone away with a sigh and pulls his notebook out again. 

“Hangman?” I ask. 

He rolls his eyes, but I can see the corner of his mouth quirk up as he turns to the next page.

***

Fiona stops the car and turns around to look at Baz when she reaches the gates. 

“Look, you’ve clearly got a lot of shit going on,” she starts. “So I talked to our old cousin Pritchard. She works in the kitchens, yeah? Well I worked out a deal with her, and she’ll be able to keep some blood for you in the back when you need it. You’re welcome.” 

She turns back around. I look at Baz, who literally lets out a breath of relief. Back at his home, he’d started practicing his hunting skills, but he couldn’t catch anything larger than a rabbit. That was on a good day. I could tell that doing it upset him whenever he came back. (He wouldn’t let me watch, as much as I asked.) 

“I-” He clears his throat. He sounds smaller than I’ve ever heard him. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we both know you wouldn’t have survived eighteen years without me.” From years of observation, I notice the hint of fondness in her voice. “Now get out of my car.” 

With that, the two of us climb out and get his luggage from the trunk. 

“I’d offer to help, but my hands are full,” I joke.  

Baz looks down at Oliver in my arms and just rolls his eyes, putting his bag over his shoulder. 

“You’re lucky she isn’t a real cat or I might eat her.” 

Once we get back to the room, Baz sets down his stuff and immediately collapses face-down onto his bed. I sit down on mine, just looking at him. I don’t get to do that as much as I used to. That might be the only thing I miss from before. 

“Are you going to the opening ceremony?” I ask.

“Mmmph,” He mumbles into his pillow. 

“You have to see everyone eventually, you know.” 

He turns to look at me intently. I can’t help but admire the way his hair lays around him. 

“I’ll just wait for Penny to come up here and force me to go.” 

I nod, looking over at the window, feeling uneasy beneath his gaze. 

“I just want to stay here for a while longer.” I turn back at him and he’s closed his eyes now. 

I lay back on my bed, letting the silence fill the room around us. It’s nice. It reminds me of all the times before. When he didn’t know I was there. I always wished that I could give him some sort of sign that he wasn’t alone. When he felt like there was no one in the world on his side. 

The sun is setting now. The room is filled with a soft golden glow through the window. When I was alive, I kept the window open all the time. On days like these, I’d stick my head out to feel the warmth on my face and the breeze blow through my hair. I remember what it felt like to be alive. 

And I’m looking at Baz, with his long, dark lashes fluttering lightly against his cheeks. The golden light settles across his face, illuminating his sharp features. No matter how much he denies it, he looks so alive. A single lock of hair has fallen across his face. I want to reach out and tuck the dark strand behind his ear. I want to run my hands through it and tell him that everything is going to work out. But no amount of wanting will give me the ability to touch him. 

It took a long time for me to figure it out. Longer than it should’ve, at least. After more than a year of following him around, wanting nothing more than to just be by his side and talk to him, wanting to make sure that he was always okay, the realization finally came to me. 

Because being with Baz reminds me what it’s like to feel alive again. Because I’ve never wanted anyone to be happy as I want him to. Because I haven’t seen anything more breathtaking than the way he looks when he’s breathing softly underneath the sunlight. Because of all of these things, I realized that I’m hopelessly in love with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is taking a while but I promise I WILL finish this fic before school starts again or I won't be able to live with myself. Anyway, follow me on tumblr @bazviolin!


	6. Cemetery Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Anyway, I actually have an idea.” 
> 
> Simon sits up excitedly with wide eyes. “Yeah?”
> 
> “Don’t get too excited.” I lower my voice and look around us once again before continuing. “I’ve been trying to use all of the spells that we’ve found on you, but none of them have worked. It got me thinking: maybe they aren’t working because you’re not actually here. Because we need to perform the spells on a physical body.” 
> 
> Simon’s expression darkens. “So you’re saying-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I lied. Definitely didn't finish this fic before I went to school... But now you get to read this spooky chapter in October :-). Thank you to whoever keeps reading this despite my terrible hiatuses. Chapter title is from Cemetry Gates by The Smiths.

BAZ

People are a lot more dense than I thought.

Apparently it’s quite easy to convince your whole school that you’ve suddenly obtained a rare blood disorder over the summer. Or maybe they’re just too afraid to question a Pitch. Which I’m fine with, if it means they aren’t burning me at the stake.

I’m not sure that Dev and Niall are fully convinced. We still sit together at meals and joke about nonsense, or play football on the pitch and talk about girls (well, they talk about girls). But they still occasionally eye me warily, or share a silent glance whenever I tell them I’m not hungry at meals (all meals). I blame my abstention from food on my new strict diet due to the blood disease. It’s incredibly ridiculous, but they’re good men for never questioning me. Unfortunately, I’ll never be able to say the same for Penny. 

On some days, I’ll skip lunch or dinner and go to the library with Simon to research. We’ve barely made any progress, only coming up with a few new spells to try out. It doesn’t help that Penny is always following me in there and asking what I’m up to. Simon thinks I should just tell her the truth already, but I was hoping we’d get it all figured out before that became necessary. And I admit it’s nice to be alone sometimes. With Simon. Somehow, being around him clears my mind of everything else I’m worried about. I don’t want to dwell too much on that realization.

Because soon enough, he’s going to leave my life just as quickly as he came into it. I don’t want that to hurt more than it already will. I know I’m only making it worse by spending all of my time with him, but I can’t help but soak up every minute I have left with him. Maybe I’m just selfish and want to keep him all to myself instead of involving Penny. 

We’re in the library now, tucked in the corner behind a bookshelf and next to the big stained glass window. It’s already late- we’ve been researching for hours and we started at dinner. Simon’s sitting ridiculously in the seat next to mine, splayed out across the arm of the chair. I divert my gaze when his shirt rides up to reveal a sliver of his silvery skin. I go back to skimming pages in the book in front of me. 

“-so then Trixie told him that he’d have to talk to Rhys if he wanted any. Which I know is a lie, because just yesterday she and Keris were-” 

“ _Simon.”_ I interrupt, rubbing my hands over my eyes. “You _d_ _o_ know that you aren’t supposed to talk in libraries.” 

He lifts his head to give me a strange look. “Nobody can hear me.” 

“Yes, well _I_ can, and I have to admit that I’m not necessarily interested in Trixie the Pixie’s escapades. Just because you _can_ spy on people, that doesn't mean that you _should_. And you’re distracting me.” 

“Not like we’re making any progress anyways,” he huffs. 

“Because you’re distracting me!” I throw my hands in the air before realizing we’re still in a public setting. I turn around, but thankfully no one is around us. Simon gives me a smirk that fills me with a variety of emotions. Annoyance, primarily. (Arousal, secondly). I straighten out my pant leg and clear my throat. “Anyway, I actually have an idea.” 

Simon sits up excitedly with wide eyes. “Yeah?”

“Don’t get too excited.” I lower my voice and look around us once again before continuing. “I’ve been trying to use all of the spells that we’ve found on _you,_ but none of them have worked. It got me thinking: maybe they aren’t working because you’re not actually _here._ Because we need to perform the spells on a physical body.” 

Simon’s expression darkens. “So you’re saying-” 

Before he can finish, a familiar voice breaks into our conversation. 

“Baz, what are you doing back here?” Penny. I turn around. She’s standing with her arms crossed.  

“Researching. For my eighth year spell.” 

She tries to look at the page I’m reading but I shut the book. I regret it instantly when she squints her eyes at me with suspicion. Great. 

“It sounded like you were talking to someone.” 

It takes all of my willpower to not look back at Snow. 

“I’m practicing elocution. Merlin, Penny, it sounds like you’re accusing me of plotting the downfall of mages.” 

A look of guilt flashes across her face before she lets out a sigh. She moves and I realize she’s going to sit next to me, where Simon is frantically getting up to move out of the way. I have to choke back a laugh at his dramatics when he gets up just before she plops into the seat. Penny looks at me earnestly.   

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Penny. I’ve already told you-” 

“Just listen to me, okay?” She takes a deep breath. “I know you’re having a hard time right now, with the _transitioning_ and your father and everything. I feel like you’ve been isolating yourself from everyone. You’re always in the library or in your room these days. You know that you can talk to me and that I’m always here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.” 

 _I’m not alone,_ I want to say. I sneak a glance at Simon.

“You should tell her.” He says. I shake my head. 

“I need to go, Penny,” I get up and start gathering my things. “I just… I’ll talk to you later. Don’t worry about me.” She watches me silently as I leave library with Simon trailing behind me. 

“Baz, she could help us,” he argues as I walk briskly through the biting air. I hope that by ignoring him he’ll just give up, but I know enough about Simon Snow to know he never backs down. 

“She’s really worried about you. You should be honest with her.” 

I stop and turn around. “Even if Penny is my best friend, it doesn’t make it any easier to tell her I’m even more of a freak than she already sees me as,” I snap.

A look of hurt takes over Simon’s face and I feel something heavy in my stomach. He furrows his eyes at the ground. 

“You don’t have to help me. If you don’t want to, you can just say it.” 

A fury of thoughts go through my mind, such as _I didn’t mean it like that, Simon, I’d never want to hurt you_ and _You’re the only thing making me feel sane right now._

But I settle for “Pitches don’t break promises, Snow,” instead. He keeps his eyes on the ground. 

I go on, “Meet me at the White Chapel tonight. This might actually work. And if it doesn’t, we’ll get Penelope involved.” 

Simon doesn’t look reassured. He hesitates before responding. “What time?” 

“We’re messing with the forces of life and death. The Witching Hour, of course.” 

 

***

 

SIMON

Fuck the Witching Hour, honestly. I’d much rather be sleeping than going down into the catacombs, in the dead hours of the night, _and_ to perform a dark ritual with a vampire. (Not that he can hurt me, but still). I’m not exactly thrilled by the idea of encountering my corpse, but Baz thinks it’s a good idea, so we have to try it. 

I try not to think about what Baz said earlier- how he basically felt like a freak because of me. I know things would be easier for him if he didn’t have to help me with my problems on top of his own. I would just run away and find someplace else to haunt for the rest of eternity- but I could never do that. Only if I knew he really wanted me to. 

Instead of continuing to bother Baz, I went over to Ebb’s for a couple of hours. There’s a nice hill in the pasture to lay on and look up at the stars. I’ve become very familiar with the sky over the past six years; I’ve started coming up with my own constellations. I sigh and lift Oliver off of my chest as I sit up in the grass. She meows before running off to the Wavering Wood. (Who knows what she does in there.) I should head to the White Chapel.

I can tell it’s cold outside, even if I can’t feel anything. All of the goats have hidden in the barn, the trees are moving violently in the wind, and when I approach the chapel, I find Baz wrapped in what looks like five layers of clothing. I know he gets cold easily, but this is excessive for mid-October. 

“Ready?” He asks, opening the door to the chapel for me to head in first. I don’t have the energy right now to joke that it’s completely unnecessary. 

I haven’t been inside of the White Chapel since I went to Watford. It looks exactly the same: dark, empty, and especially creepy in the middle of the night. We silently make our way down the dark aisle toward the altar. Even in the dark, you can make out the depictions in the large stained glass windows of great mages and dragons and other magical beings. Right now, I feel like all of their eyes are following me as we get closer to the door that leads down to the catacombs. Like they know that we’re trying to do something that’s completely wrong. 

We stop once we reach the door, and I look at Baz. He has the same face I’ve seen when he’s on the pitch: knitted brows, jaw tight, eyes set on the goal ahead of him. He pulls out his wand and glances over at me. I nod and he turns back, opening the door and stepping down into the darkness. 

The door shuts behind us and everything turns pitch-black. 

“Baz, I know you have super-vampire-vision, but I don’t, so can you please-” 

A small flame suddenly appears in his palm. 

“ _Baz!_ You’re flammable!” I panic. 

He smirks as he watches the flame grow and dance between his fingers. 

“I wasn’t sure if it would work. I hadn’t tried since I was turned…” 

“So you thought now would be a good time to test your luck?”

He ignores me and continues to walk down the small corridor. It’s dreadful down here. Bones are scattered randomly across the stone floor, and webs cover the crevices between bricks in the walls. There are dozens of other passageways down here, but Baz seems sure of the way he’s going. 

“Have you been down here before?” I say quietly, though I’m not sure why. 

Baz’s voice echoes against the cave-like walls, “A few times. My mother’s grave is down here. Have you not?”

I’m not sure if it’s more weird that I haven’t tried visiting my own grave, or that Baz assumes that I have. 

“No,” I respond. 

“That’s a shame. It’s quite lovely down here.” I’m too unsettled to find any humor in his joke.

Suddenly, a distant thud sounds behind us. I stop in my tracks in fear. I’d grab his hand right now if I could. 

“Oh Crowley, did you hear that?” 

“Simon,” Baz stops to look back at me. “Nothing can touch you. And we’re the scariest things down here.” 

“An amateur vampire and a ghost that doesn’t like possessing people?” 

Baz’s eyes widen before he quickly recomposes his features to appear only slightly unsettled.

“You can possess people? How have you never mentioned this?”

“I possessed Fiona once.” _To save your life,_ I don’t add.

“You _what?”_  

“It doesn’t matter right now!” I run my hands through my hair. “Can we just keep moving? I want to get out of here as soon as possible.” _If I get out of here._

I’ve tried not to think too much about _what_ exactly we’re trying to do right now. Nothing seemed real when all we did was look at books in the library, or when Baz tried to cast spells on me that never landed. But now… this is a whole other type of game. This might actually work. And I have no clue what to expect if it does. Will I pass on to the afterlife? Or will I somehow reinhabit my body? No. I _really_ don’t want to think about that. The more my mind goes on, the more it feels like something rising up in me, like my magic when I was alive, always bubbling to the surface-

Baz stops. “We’re here.” 

 

BAZ

 

So maybe this wasn’t the best idea. 

It seemed like the most logical thing, to perform the spells on a physical body instead of a spirit. It’s my final, desperate attempt at figuring this out before we have to get Penelope involved. But now that we’re here, I’m afraid of what we actually _could_ do. I don’t even have a set goal. Ideally, get Simon to where he’s supposed to be. Whether that be behind the veil or legitimately resurrected… I’m unsure. And I’m unsure which possibility unsettles me more.

I don’t want to lose Simon right when I’ve just met him, now that he’s one of the only constants I can depend on in my life right now. But I can’t be selfish. He doesn’t want to stick around forever. I can’t exactly say, “ _Actually, I enjoy your company. Would you mind staying in limbo for eternity to be my friend?”._ Definitely not. 

We’ve finally reached Simon’s tomb. His is right next to my mother’s, and I’ve seen it before, but I’ve never really _looked_ at it. The tombstone says in grand letters:

SIMON SNOW

June 1993 - October 6, 2009

_Here lies the greatest hero of Watford School of Magicks._

_We will never forget your brave deed._

I turn to Simon, who looks like he’s going to be sick. He’s standing there, taking in the whole scene, his eyes scanning the epitaph. I want to reach out and reassure him somehow, but I can’t.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I tell him. 

He shakes his head, seeming to clear his mind. He turns his attention to me. There isn’t any fear left in his eyes. 

“No. We need to try.” 

I nod, walking over to the torches on the wall to light it with the flame in my hand. I then pull my notebook from my bag and stand in front of the tomb. Simon moves next to me. 

“Should I, like-” he takes a deep breath. “Should I lay above it or something?” 

I swallow. “Yeah, that might be best.” I have no idea what I’m doing. 

Simon slowly steps closer to the raised coffin and lays on top of it. 

“I’m going to try out a few different spells, okay?” I say, trying to hide any shaking in my voice. I’m probably failing. 

“Okay.” 

I clear my throat and straighten my stance, holding my wand out to point at the grave. 

“ _Come together, right now.”_ Nothing happens.

“ _We go together.”_  

“ _Everything in its right place!”_ I had a good feeling about that one, but I’m proved wrong. 

“ _It’s alive!”_

“Baz!” Simon shouts without moving. “ _Please_ don’t use that spell.” 

“We’re running out of options,” I respond, though I feel guilty. That one could be very unpredictable. 

“I don’t want to be a monster.” 

“You’re not a monster, Simon,” I say, more softly than I intended. “I’m going to try a few more. Don’t freak out.” 

He doesn’t object, so I continue. 

“ _He is risen!”_

Bible spells are nearly the most powerful ones a mage can use. Normals live and breathe from it. I expect Simon to try to stop me, but he doesn’t. 

“ _He has risen from the dead.”_

The tomb suddenly feels a lot warmer. I want to remove my coat, but I have to keep trying. 

 _"Those who have done what is good will rise to live.”_ Simon is so, so good. He's braver and better than anyone I know. 

_“But your dead will live; their bodies will rise._

_Those who live in the dust will wake up and shout for joy!_

_For your dew is like the dew of dawn,_

_and the earth will give birth to the dead.”_

I’m sweating and the light from the flames suddenly seems a lot brighter. My ears are ringing.

“Baz, I don’t-” Simon tries to stop me, but I don’t.

“ _He is risen indeed!”_

I think the ground is shaking. I think I’m going to burn alive from the inside out. I think I might be able to-

“Baz?” Someone says behind me.

I jerk around to see Penny, standing in the doorway to the tomb, eyes wide and wand in hand. 

“Penny?” Black spots are filling my vision. I fall to my knees. Penny gets down to catch me just before I fall onto my face.

“Oh, Merlin,” Simon comes over to us. “Baz, I told you to stop.”

“I’m sorry, Simon.” My eyes are getting heavier. 

“Simon?” Penny looks around the tomb. “Merlin, Baz. What have you gotten into…”

The last thing I see is her bright purple ring, pointed straight at me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally only ever keep writing this bc of your lovely comments so please let me know your thoughts <3 :)


End file.
